


Already Yours

by Jennyrosity



Series: Mine/Yours/Ours [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Polyamory, Requited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6886261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennyrosity/pseuds/Jennyrosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of "Making Him Mine" from Bucky's POV. Bucky watches Tony with Steve, and yeah, he's jealous, but not in the way Tony imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Already Yours

**Author's Note:**

> After so many people responded so well to Making Him Mine (thank you thank you THANK YOU ALL!), I thought I would write a bit more, this time from Bucky's POV. 
> 
> I still haven't seen Civil War (I know, remiss of me), so it's not compliant with that, but on the plus side, no risk of spoilers. 
> 
> There may be a third part, from Steve's POV, or possibly an epilogue if I can't get Steve to "speak" to me. Assuming you all enjoy this part of course!

Fuck super-sensitive hearing. 

No, seriously. FUCK. THAT.

Because, if it wasn't bad enough to have to watch the two of them all snuggled up together, Ton...Stark tucked into Stevie's lap like he was made to fit there; well, if that wasn't bad enough, I have to hear every filthy word he whispers into Steve's ears. 

..."lick me open till I'm gasping and begging and just can't take any more, till I'm so desperate for you to fuck me hard and deep with that big, thick, gorgeous cock of yours..."

This has been going on for a while - since the movie started, basically - so I can't say I'm surprised when Steve grabs his fella's hand and hustles him out of the room. I doubt I'd have lasted that long. Honestly, if he were mine, I don't think I'd ever let him out of bed. I'd keep him there, pinned down under me, exploring him with my mouth and my tongue and both hands, flesh and metal, getting to know every inch of him, inside and out, till we lost track of where he ended and I began; and then I'd slide on into him and....

Fuck. I'm the worst. I know, I get it, ok? I am the worst possible person. That's my best friend's guy. His One-and-Only. I've known Stevie a long time, and yeah, I may not remember everything, but I remember this - he's never looked at anyone the way he looks at him. Like he's the world and everything in it. 

And I get why. Ton...Stark, fucks sake, STARK...is amazing. It's not just that he's hot - although he is, fuck me, he's scorching - it's that he...amazing. Yeah, I know, articulate ain't I? But where do I start? Call me narcissistic, but I've always had a thing for smart-mouthed brunets, and you don't get smarter than his. He's kind, too, though, in a way he doesn't want you to see, but look at it, he's given us all a home; not just a place to live but a HOME; even me, and I...I...fuck. 

I killed his parents. I killed Tony's parents, and there's no getting away from that. Even if Steve wasn't in the picture - and he is, he's practically the whole damn drawing - there's no way in hell he'd ever want me, and I wouldn't deserve him if he did. 

This has to stop. 

So I start spending more time just with Stevie. I'd been trying not to, before; knowing that he had a life of his own and that I'd already screwed it up enough, I'd been trying to just kinda...exist on the edges of it. There if he needed me, but not in the way. But I need to remind myself of who he is and what he is to me, so that I'll know, without any shadow of doubt, that I'll never try to touch what is his and can never belong to me. 

It works, sorta. I tell him the half-truth - that I want to reconnect - and the damn punk is so fucking enthusiastic about it. He takes me out and shows me our past (Coney Island, ball games, walks in the park) and his future (fancy art galleries, 3D movies on huge screens, sushi restaurants - man, who knew raw fish would turn out to be so delicious), and I start to forget about big brown eyes full of fire and remember blue ones full of love that always made me want to kiss him, even when we were just two scrappy kids in a time when we coulda been killed for less. 

Fuck. So it seems no matter what I do, I'm doomed to want them both. My best friend and my best friend's fella. Maybe this is my punishment for all the things I did under Hydra? Have to say, I deserved worse, but it feels bad enough. Everywhere I look; they're there, and I gotta wonder why, if the tower's fancy AI is so super-smart, it can't warn me when I'm about to walk in on them getting busy in some place they shouldn't be. Because I'm starting to lose count of the number of times I've walked in on Ton...Stark on his knees, or Stevie bent over something looking seconds away from begging for it like a slut, and I just....can't. I can't anymore. 

I disappear. Not from the tower altogether, that dumb punk would only follow me, so I shut myself away in my room. He follows me anyway, but somehow I manage to resist the goddamn puppy eyes and tell him I need some space. And I do - space from him, and the love of his life, till I can get it through my thick skull that they won't ever be mine. 

So I hide, and I jerk myself off till I'm raw and try not to imagine myself in between them in every possible way, and I can't fucking sleep anymore without waking up from yet another dream about them; hard as hell and gasping their names. The worst ones aren't even the ones when we're fucking, it's the ones when I'm wrapped up between them, safe and warm and loved. When I wake up from those dreams, I cry. 

After one night when the dreams won't fucking stop, I head up to communal floor looking for...what, I don't even know, but probably booze. I don't even normally drink, there seems little point as doesn't even give me much of a buzz anymore, but getting black-out drunk seems real good right now, so I figure it can't hurt to try. 

Except what do I see when I stumble into the kitchen but Tony-fucking-Stark, bent over half-naked in front of me, covered in Steve's marks and with the loose-limbed look of a well-fucked man? He turns and looks at me over his shoulder with those beautiful dark eyes, and fuck, I want him, I want him so much I can't breathe and I can't...I can't...

I don't remember taking hold of him, I don't remember begging, I don't remember anything bar this all-consuming need until suddenly Steve's there, looking at me like he can't believe what he's seeing, and I'm sorry Steve. I'm so fucking sorry. 

I run, and I'm throwing things into a bag at random, no thought to anything bar getting away. I'm not even a little surprised to hear Steve come in. 

"Leaving again jerk? You know I'll only follow you."

"Not this time, Stevie. You know you need to stay. You and Ton...Stark have got a good thing going, and I won't ruin that. You love him and he loves you and that's the way it should be. There ain't no place here for me."

Super-soldier hearing may not be all it's cracked up to be after all, because I don't even hear him approach until he's wrapped around me, brushing my hair away from my eyes. 

"No place for you here? When I love him and you love me and he loves me and you love him and I love you? Sounds like the only place for you is with us."

I don't believe him, at first. Don't believe he loves me, or that Tony ever could. Don't believe there could ever be room for me and all my fucks-up between them. But that's the thing about Steve, he can make you believe just about anything, and later; when Tony looks at me with those huge eyes so full of...possibility, he makes me believe it too.


End file.
